The Man In The Window [Mannen i vinduet - no]

In aspirit of generosity Gunnarstranda opened the palms of his hands to allowFristad the last word:

'Butnot a scrap of bloody proof,' Fristad rounded off sourly.

'Youwould like this taxi-driver to be involved, wouldn't you?' the policeman asked,lighting a cigarette he had in some miraculous way placed between his lips.

'Nosmoking in here,' Fristad said.

Gunnarstrandainhaled, half-opened the box of matches and held it in his hand.

'Yes,and I still believe it – that this taxi-driver is involved. If you don't stubout that cigarette, you'll receive an official warning.'

Gunnarstrandainhaled again and flicked ash into the half-open matchbox. 'Let's assume thereis a link,' he said. 'We suspect a motive, which is that Ekholt has deludedhimself into thinking that Gro Hege Wyller is his girlfriend. He gets a shockbecause he thinks she's having a relationship with the old man. Ekholt feelsrejected and trampled on, and therefore follows the old codger to have it outwith him. That's more or less what we think, isn't it?' He took another drag.'If what we think is right, if Ekholt lay in wait for the old man when he wasalone in the shop, why would he put the man in the shop window and write histaxi number on his chest?'

'Buggeredif I know!' Fristad said, gesticulating with his arms. 'It's your job to knowthat! And now I'm getting nervous because you have the cheek to pollute myoffice with that stinking cigarette. Are you aware that I have a secretary whois prone to taking a fortnight off for an allergy'

'Relax,'the policeman said, putting the half-smoked cigarette into the matchbox andclosing it. 'While we're considering whether Ekholt might have killedJespersen, we must not forget our trump cards. The first is that the murder wasplanned, and the second is that Folke Jespersen must have let the murderer inand so he most probably knew him. I doubt whether Folke Jespersen knew thetaxi-driver.'

'Butif Ekholt had stood banging on the window, Folke Jespersen might have let himin,' Fristad countered. 'Ekholt was a taxi driver. He was wearing a uniform. Hemight have pretended he was enquiring after a customer…'

'Youknow best what line you will take in court,' Gunnarstranda answered, raisinghis palms. 'And we haven't even started to talk about the son's motives. Iwould like to discuss the inscription on the man's chest…'

Atthat moment they were interrupted; the door was thrust open and Frank Frølichwalked in.

Frankfelt quite stressed after running the gauntlet of tabloid journalists on hisway to Fristad's office. Getting into the public prosecutor's room gave thesame liberating feeling you had when you sheltered from a heavy downpour undera large spruce. Fristad and Gunnarstranda, each seated on a blue swivel chair,were silent and deep in thought.

'Itsmells of smoke in here,' Frølich said, sniffing.

'Yousee,' Fristad said accusingly and shook his head in irritation atGunnarstranda. 'You see. Now you've done it.'

'Bloodyhell,' Frølich breathed out. 'The press are going wild about this taxi murder.'

Gunnarstrandaswung round on his chair towards- Frølich. 'They were saying on the radio thatthe taxi drivers in town had gone bananas,' he mumbled. 'It's the usual whinge.Screaming on about the crazy times we live in and the lack of security for taxidrivers. Early today there were a hundred taxis honking their horns outsideparliament. Every bloody office worker in town got to work late – even thoseworking here and in the Department of Justice. There was a jam right out toGardemoen airport.' Then he added, 'The killing might be connected to our case,but it's not a foregone conclusion.'

'Themobile phone under the pedals,' Fristad said. 'The call to Frølich and the codenumber 195…'

Gunnarstrandamade a weighing motion with his hands: 'Licence plate or chapter and verse inthe Bible. The choice is yours.'

Fristadstopped swinging on his chair and stamped both feet on the floor withirritation. 'But he rang and said the number. The man driving taxi number…'

'Yes,OK,' Gunnarstranda interrupted, annoyed. 'But you have to remember that Frølichhas been searching for the driver of taxi number 195 for several days! He mighthave said the number just to identify himself.' He turned to Frølich: 'Did theman say anything about the writing on the dead body?'

'No,'Frølich confirmed. 'He just said the number. A hundred and ninety-five.'

'Nothingelse?'

'No,apart from…'

'Fromwhat?'

'WhatI told you. That he knew something. I don't think he was alone when he rang.'

Theother two men stared at Frølich, who gave an apologetic smile: 'He may havebeen in a pub or a café. I could hear quite a bit of noise. Background noise.And sometimes he seemed to be covering the phone with his hand.'

'Ekholtmay have been in conversation with someone while he was talking,' Gunnarstrandaexplained to the public prosecutor, who pulled an expressive grimace.

Frølichhunched his shoulders. 'I'm not sure. But the thought went through my mind.'

'Whocould it have been?' Fristad mused. 'Gro Hege Wyller?'

Frølichshook his head. 'If there was someone, it was a man.'

'Isthis relevant?' Fristad asked.

'Sincehe was found murdered an hour later, it's relevant,' Gunnarstranda answered.

'Buthow can we explain the fact that Ekholt was killed after talking to Frølich?'Fristad barked.

'Noidea,' Gunnarstranda said with a shrug.

'Butthis murder must be connected with the murder of the antiques dealer!'

'Mustit?'

'Hesaid he knew something, didn't he!'

'Everyoneknows something. You do, and so do I!'

'Butit would be perverse to believe anything else except that the murders areconnected!'

Gunnarstrandashrugged. 'Well.' 'But you've got to be able to see that!' Fristad continued ina milder tone.

'Notnecessarily.'

'Notnecessarily? He drives a taxi with number 195. The numbers are written on thedead body and he even rings the police in fits of laughter as he says the numbers!'

'Justdescribe what happened,' Gunnarstranda suggested stonily.

'Whathappened? Ekholt went into the shop, he grabbed a bayonet and stabbed the manbecause he thought the old goat was humping his woman!'

Gunnarstrandaand Frølich watched Fristad with interest. He had stood up and was standing bythe table as he opened and clenched his fists in quick succession.

'Yes?'Gunnarstranda said, impatient.

'Yes,then he stripped the man, painted the number on his chest and sat the man in anarmchair in the shop window.'

'Why?'

'Why?I don't bloody well know why.'

'Andthen?'

'Andthen what?'

'Thekeys.'

'Yes,'Fristad said, calmer now. 'He took the keys, went up to the first floor and…'

Frølichgrinned.

Fristadsat back – crestfallen.

'Thatstory's no good,' Frølich said. 'To me it seems more logical that it was someonewho wanted to put the body on show. And, if that's right, I reckon the codedmessage is a reference to the Bible.'

'Butwhy was Ekholt killed?' Fristad mused aloud.

'Hemay have been robbed and killed by a customer,' Gunnarstranda said in a softvoice.